ReCollection
by Meeperz3
Summary: Jack and Tom are both dead; Alex has stopped caring altogether. For the safety of everyone around him, MI6 sent the despondent team to an SAS training camp. A collection of connected one shots and songfics that may, if I get enough requests, be continued.
1. How To Save A Life  The Fray songfic

This is my first fanfiction that I'm actually not ashamed of, and won't take down. Tell me how you like it, and if I should take this setup and turn it into a full length story, or if I should just write different things.

Also, Degrassi lovers, should I write an Alex Rider/Degrassi crossover? I began planning one out but my plan kind of sucks. So, ideas are welcome.

Disclaimer – Sure, I'm awesome... But am I really _that _awesome?

_Step one you say we need to talk  
He walks you say sit down it's just a talk  
He smiles politely back at you  
You stare politely right on through  
Some sort of window to your right  
As he goes left and you stay right  
Between the lines of fear and blame  
You begin to wonder why you came _

"_Mr. Rider_, your presence is requested in Room _562_ of the Royal and General Bank at _5 PM._"

The voice was always exactly the same – the only thing that differed was the time. The electronic droning was almost chilling, in a way, the even, emotionless recording, with his information filled in with a computer's voice. It was so inhuman, fitting for something so inhumane.

He reluctantly walked into the room., and nearly walked straight back out again. The scent of peppermint hung in the air like fumes at a gas station, burning his nostrils slightly. His face showed the faintest signs of apprehension. Mrs. Jones picked it up. She told him they just had to sort out a few things, it would be quick and easy. He knew better than to believe her; in this world, nothing was quick and easy.

She gave him what she probably thought was a reassuring smile. It wasn't at all. It seemed fake.

He distracted himself by staring out the window, thinking. He blamed himself, every moment. He believed everything that had happened was completely his fault. He was afraid of it, of himself.

He wondered how he had come to this. He was once a normal boy, fairly popular, who loved sports. Now, what was he? He wasn't a boy, that was certain. But he wasn't a man either.

The question is, why?

_Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend  
Somewhere along in the bitterness  
And I would have stayed up with you all night  
Had I known how to save a life_

He still remembered that night, perfectly. He should have been more careful. He shouldn't have let Tom follow him, or let them both get kidnapped. He should have been able to save his best friend. He would've done anything to keep Tom alive. Tom, his last true friend, the only person that was left on the world that cared about him. Jack had been killed months before.

_Let him know that you know best  
Cause after all you do know best  
Try to slip past his defense  
Without granting innocence  
Lay down a list of what is wrong  
The things you've told him all along  
And pray to God he hears you  
And pray to God he hears you_

"It is best," Jones told him. "For your safety and those around you, for you to go to the SAS training camp in Wales"

They didn't stop with the questions. They tried to trick him into answering. They treated him like scum, like he was inferior than them. Truly, he wasn't too much lower. Physically, he was only 16. But mentally, he was older. He'd seen things most people went their whole lives without seeing.

They told him over and over again how worthless he was, he was a disgrace to their army. They were ruthless from the start, but he seemed to block it all out; it was as if he was deaf to everything except what he needed to hear.

_As he begins to raise his voice  
You lower yours and grant him one last choice  
Drive until you lose the road  
Or break with the ones you've followed  
He will do one of two things  
He will admit to everything  
Or he'll say he's just not the same  
And you'll begin to wonder why you came _

Every morning, now, and every night, he ran. He ran until his vision blurred; he ran until the pain was no longer in his mind but in his body. There, he could deal with it. He'd finally snapped. After Tom died, he couldn't deal with his life. He stopped caring about anything.

They kept trying to get something out of him. Anything – a reaction, an answer. Something other than his cold indifference. The only thing they knew about him was he had a dark bullet scar above his heart, no more than a couple years old and he had something to do with MI6. They all thought he was the son of some MI6 member or something, shot as revenge or leverage against his dad.

They didn't know the truth. No one did. No one would. They thought he'd come around sometime. They all wondered what had happened to the old Cub. He wasn't the same.

He wondered how he had come to this. He was once a normal boy, fairly popular, who loved sports. Now, what was he? He wasn't a boy, that was certain. But he wasn't a man either.

The question is, why?


	2. Carry You Home James Blunt songfic

_Trouble is her only friend and he's back again.  
Makes her body older than it really is.  
She says it's high time she went away,  
No one's got much to say in this town.  
Trouble is the only way is down.  
Down, down._

Tom could see the changes in his best friend. Each time he came home from a mission, he got worse. He barely spoke to anyone but Tom, and the fire that had lit his eyes was now gone, along with his smile and laughter, his passion for football.

Every time, he said this would be the last mission, but he kept going back.

He wanted to stop him, to help his best friend like you should, but he didn't know how.

_As strong as you were, tender you go.  
I'm watching you breathing for the last time.  
A song for your heart, but when it is quiet,  
I know what it means and I'll carry you home.  
I'll carry you home._

Alex rested his tear stained cheeks in his balled up fists, looking at the dark haired boy in the bed beside him. The monitors beeped rhythmically, and he could barely hear the shallow breathing of his best friend. How had this happened? How could he have let them do this to the boy with so much potential.

He would've probably gotten an athletic scholarship, played football in college. He might've even gone on to play it professionally. But now, even if he survived, the boy would be paralyzed from lower chest down.

There wasn't much chance he would survive, anyway.

It was all Alex's fault.

_If she had wings she would fly away,  
And another day God will give her some.  
Trouble is the only way is down.  
Down, down._

They'd kidnapped Tom as leverage, and tortured him ruthlessly. They ended up shooting him in the back, purposefully missing all major arteries and veins. They wanted him to suffer as long as possible.

As he heard the boy who was practically his brother whimper and cry, he wished he weren't tied up so he could put the poor boy out of his misery.

_As strong as you were, tender you go.  
I'm watching you breathing for the last time.  
A song for your heart, but when it is quiet,  
I know what it means and I'll carry you home.  
I'll carry you home.  
And they were all born pretty in New York City tonight,  
And someone's little girl was taken from the world tonight,  
Under the Stars and Stripes._

The machine stopped beeping, the line on the monitor went flat.

"NO!" Alex shouted, falling to his knees beside the boy. "Tom!" He broke into sobs, shaking against the bed. His tears soaked the crisp white sheets.

_As strong as you were, tender you go.  
I'm watching you breathing for the last time.  
A song for your heart, but when it is quiet,  
I know what it means and I'll carry you home.  
I'll carry you home. _

He was dead. Alex couldn't believe it. His best friend was dead. His lifeless body sat in the hospital bed.

He stood up, and quickly grabbed the soccer ball shaped hackey sack, Tom's good luck charm that he always had at his games, off the table and pocketed it before leaving out the door.


	3. Jack Oneshot

Warning - I have a bunch of ideas written down, but it might get a bit confusing at times. Bear(bare?) with me. They may be a bit out of order, but I'll try to keep them in chronological order. If you have questions, review or message me.\

PS - My third update in a day. Am I doing pretty well? :P

Artist I'm listening to right now - Owl City

Jack

The plan was simple. A timer bomb set in the boy's house. It would blow up the entire structure, as well as many around it. It would go off around dinner time, to ensure the boy's presence. He almost always ate dinner at home.

So how did it go wrong?

"I'll be back around seven or eight. Kay. Love you too, Jack. Bye." He hung up his phone and slipped it back into his pocket before strolling lazily back to his friends. They were talking about Call Of Duty Black Ops.

"Hey, you guys wanna come over to my house and play it? I have four controllers," Ryan, one of the boys in the group, offered.

They all agreed, including the girls, and headed to the house. It was fairly large, and on the other side of Chelsea.

A few hours later, they heard a boom in the distance. Alex looked up, immediately reaching for his phone. He pressed redial; it didn't even ring, voicemail picked up straight away. Shit. Maybe her battery had run out?

He didn't quite believe what he told himself. "I have to go." He announced, running out the door and picking up his bike mid run.

Tears were streaming down his cheeks as he saw the rubble. "No. Jack." He whispered, ditching the bike. Police were swarmed around.

"Hey, kid, you can't go in there." An officer told him as he approached.

"It's my fucking home. Jack was in there." He informed the officer, voice hoarse.

"The boy's still alive," the rookie informed his superior nervously.

"What?" The man stared at him venomously.

"Well, he... he wasn't in the house when the bomb went off. We killed his housekeeper, though."

"IDIOT!" The man yelled.

"It wasn't my fault, sir." The younger man gulped.

"OF COURSE IT'S YOUR FUCKING FAULT." He took a deep breath, closing his eyes. "I wanted the boy dead. Don't you dare return until he is, or I will kill you." The banishment might not have been so bad if Scorpia members weren't hunted down and killed if away for more than 2 months.

"Of course, sir. I'll get right to it, sir." He turned on his heel and sped out the door.

"We have reasons to believe it was Scorpia who attacked your home," Blunt finally said to the boy in the plush chair.

"I guessed that," Alex told him dryly. Blunt of all people should know he wasn't stupid in the slightest.

"We're going to have some of our men following you around for a while. They won't be noticeable," he assured him. "One of them will be posing as your guardian, though only for aesthetic purposes. You can take care of youself well enough, correct?"


	4. Multiple Songfics

**Yeah, I know I haven't updated in a while, but I have school to deal with!**

**So, here's a long one for you :)**

**Also, do you guys think I should make a proper story? With multiple chapters and everything?**

**Yes, I've been obsessed with B.o.B. lately :)**

Inspired by Airplanes by B.o.B. ft. Hayley Williams.

Alex gazed up into the stars, twinkling white against the black sky. It was a fairly clear night for winter. Snowflakes gently drifted down, melting as soon as they hit the ground. He saw an airplane zooming through the dark backdrop, and a fond memory drifted to the surface like a bubble.

He closed his eyes so the pictures could etch themselves on the back of his lids.

He was stargazing with Ian, searching for the constellations among all the stars that didn't fit together.

"Look!" The five year old pointed toward the night sky. "A shooting star!"

"Alex, that's -" Ian took a breath in, shaking his head. It wasn't important, he might as well indulge the boy. "You're right. Make a wish."

Beaming, the boy closed his eyes and made a wish. As he thought it over, his smile faltered. _I wish my parents could be here right now, _he decided in his mind before opening his eyes. His parents weren't there, but suddenly his arm shivered as the wind brushed by it. It felt more like the warm breeze of summer than the cool night air that blew by them.

-{-[

Alex opened his eyes, smiling, and made a wish. He knew it wouldn't come true, but there was something comforting about making a wish. _I wish I were five again, with Ian and Jack and everyone still there._

Inspired by Magic by B.o.B. ft. Rivers Cuomo.

It seemed to everyone that Alex could do everything right. A lot of the girls in his school (and a few guys, though there weren't many openly gay boys in his year) almost drooled over him in gym. Though only in year nine, he'd made the Varsity football team [**I think that's right... correct me if I'm wrong. I don't play sports in England. :P**] All the guys wanted to be him. It seemed he was everyone's friend. But then, he started getting sick.

It started at the end of his ninth year, with only two separate absences. But, he was gone most of the summer. He might have just been on holiday, but he was only there for a few days in the summer, two different trips. Few people did that, even the richer kids.

Then, he was gone for a good part of year ten. Before long, he was gone more than he was there.

He lost his spot on the team. He never took his shirt off to change for gym, and always wore a sweatshirt, so no one saw his muscles or the cross tattoo on one of his biceps. He became more and more withdrawn, less friendly to everyone. Soon, he only spoke to Tom.

Everyone resented him for it, and became more alienated towards him as well.

Inspired by Whatsername by Green Day **(finally, something other than B.o.B.! You say).**

Alex tried to forget her.

The blaze burned brightly as he dropped all the pictures of her into the fire, watching them crackle and burn. He came to the one of him and her together at Wimbledon, the first time they'd met, smiling their cheeks off.

He ground his teeth together and threw that into the fire, too.

.*-.* C *.-*.

He sat in the hospital bed, recently back from a mission, wondering where she was now. He wondered if she'd met someone new, and moved on. Or was she, like Alex, stuck fast to the same person like with hot glue. Was she still even in the states, or had she moved again?

Was she even still alive? Or had Scorpia killed her for having contact with Alex? It seemed anyone else who'd ever gotten anywhere close to him was killed. It was like the fates had poisoned his thread so it would shrivel and kill anything that touched it.

He smirked, looking down at the Greek mythology book in front of him. That was what the tutor was teaching him about: Greek Mythology. Of all the things he could be learning, subjects that would be useful in the world he was already immersed in, he was learning about Greek Mythology.

Alex thought back to the year they'd met in Wimbledon. It seemed like so long ago, though it was only a year and a half.

He fell asleep thinking about it. For the first night in as many as he could remember, he didn't have a nightmare. For once, he was mad when he woke up. He was angry at having to leave the blissful dream, instead of being grateful for escaping the horrible nightmares that so often plagued his subconscious.

**I know, they're not really all that connected to the rest of the story. I just wanted to give you guys something. This took me about an hour, so be happy. It's probably the longest thing of pure writing I've written so far. **

**Things to look forward to:**

**(Probably) A songfic to You're Gonna Go Far Kid by The Offspring.**

**(Probably) A few things to Adam Young's songs (Owl City and Sky Sailing, mainly, but there are others).**

**More updates!**

**(Possibly) A proper, full length story. I'll start as soon as I get some feedback on that.**

**All the songs I used in this are amazing songs – go listen to them :)**

**Also, if anyone has any ideas or anything, message me or leave a review.**_  
_


	5. Paintball

**Note - this chapter is set _before _the SAS soldiers learned about the bullet.**

**I s'pose I should put in a disclaimer? Nahh, I'm too lazy. That's probably why I don't own Alex Rider... dratzz.**

* * *

"A'right, listen up!" The sergeant shouted. Each unit had a color, red, blue, yellow, orange, purple, and green. K unit was green. They didn't have body armor, so it would hurt like Hell if they were shot. "If you get shot in the torso or head, you're dead. If you die, your teammates must carry you back to the base before the exercise is over, or else your whole team fails the exercise. If you get shot in the arms or legs, you can't use that limb. If you're shot in both legs or both arms, you're dead. If everyone on your team dies, then your unit fails. Now, go! The exercise lasts 2 hours."

The soldiers scurried off, meeting in their units to discuss a plan. "Snake and I will patrol on the ground. Eagle, you climb a tree and shoot from above. Jackle, if anyone notices Eagle and tries to shoot him, shoot them. And Cub, just try not to get shot. I don't want to have to waste my time carrying you back," Wolf jeered before the team split off.

Alex found a fairly well hidden spot in a tree and sat there, waiting for people to pass. One person stepped cautiously into the area. Alex held the gun up, barely bothered to take aim, and fired. It hit the man in the side of his rib cage. The man would still be alive if it were a real bullet and probably already firing back at Alex, so without thinking, he quickly took another shot that hit the middle of his chest.

"I'm dead," the soldier said into his radio, sitting and waiting for his unit to come. _Perfect_, Alex smiled to himself. _When they come, I can take the rest of them out, too._

The man's three team mates arrived cautiously, looking around for someone. They didn't see Alex.

The shot came out of nowhere, splattering green on the team leader's back. The boy in the tree quickly fired at another of them, too.

Before he could shoot the third, he saw something blue cutting through the air towards him. It hit him square in heart, about an inch below his bullet scar.

His face immediately lost color, and he lost his grip and balance. The ground was hard and hurt his shoulder, but he barely noticed in his struggle to breath. His vision was blurred with pain and tears. The leader of the other unit seemed to notice something was wrong. "Kid can't even take a paint ball to the chest," He sneered.

"I think something's wrong, Lion," The unit's medic, Owl, took in Alex's sickly pallor and the sheen of sweat on his brow.

Alex clutched his chest, breath coming in short gasps. He fumbled for the signal button on his radio, alerting his unit something was wrong.

"His unit'll come get him," Lion shrugged. "Let's get back to the exercise." They picked up their fallen comrades in a fireman's carry, heading back toward base.

"Cub's signalling us," Snake announced. "He'd radio us if something weren't seriously wrong."

"Probably got shot in the balls or something, wants his mummy," Wolf sneered.

"We should go check, at least. He might be seriously hurt, or maybe dead. If we don't get him to the base, we'll all fail," Snake tried to reason with Wolf.

"Fine," Wolf agreed, weary of the possibility of being binned hanging over him the whole time.

They followed the signal on their walkie talkies to where Alex was. They saw him on the ground, still in pain, but now able to breathe.

"Where were you hit?" Snake questioned, medic side taking over.

Alex gestured vaguely to his chest; Snake quickly unbuttoned the army shirt and lifted the white undershirt. Both he and Wolf gasped when they saw the bullet wound.

"Shit, Cub. How the Hell did you get that?" Judging by the size and clean entry wound, Snake guessed it was a sniper rather than a guard or soldier who shot him.

Cub didn't answer, and Snake quickly picked him up. In the back of his head, he wondered how much the boy weighed - he seemed lighter than even a teenage boy should weigh, but it might've just been because the Scot was used to lifting heavily muscled men.

The proper medics in the camp that were on hand for all assignments took him when they got back to the base, and the two in K unit returned to the exercise.

They were slightly unnerved by the fact that someone would snipe down a teenager, no more than 16. _His dad must've pissed someone off, _Wolf justified it in his head. _The best way to get to someone is through their family. _

Most members of the SAS had little to no family because of this. It was too dangerous for everyone else.

* * *

**Pretty long, for me! Be glad I had a headache today, otherwise I'd probably have been out with friends instead of writing. :P**

**Anyway, love you all x3 **

**PS Reviews make me feel fuzzy and warm inside (and they make me want to write more *hintnudge*)**

**PPS If you notice any mistakes, or have any reccomendations, feel free to review.**

**Final Note By thah waaay, I loooove Green Day. Amaaaazing :DDD**

**Final Note PS I LOVE YOU GUYS TOOOO x3333**


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